Sentinel Trinity
by Luna Tiger
Summary: Mizu's the third Keyblade Master and he's very unsure of the situation. Riku's free, Sora's hope dwindles, and Kairi still prays at night. NEOs, the Door, and secrets of the Keyblades are unveiled the Mother waits in the Light. Darkfic, love triangles.
1. Shima I

  
  
**Disclaimer**: I own Kingdom Hearts! ..No, literally. *holds up her game box* Do I own any of the characters in it? Chya, right. That's a big, fat No. But, while we're taking about owning things, I own Mizu and the three sprites (Shima, Kiri, and Yama). 

This story was inspired by one, single realization: the Japanese word 'riku' means 'land'. For more insight, read a little essay I did: www . livejournal . com / talkread.bml ? journal=blackstronghold & itemid=90336 

Also, this is a spin-off from the 'secret ending', so spoilers for it and the game abound. 

* * *

_Three swords to light the heavens  
protect the Trinity of sentinel Worlds.  
Stand firm on polluted Land  
Bathe in the murky Water  
Gaze up to the cloud-covered Sky. _

_See how the most pure  
have surrendered their hearts  
to Darkness._

* * *

Sentinel Trinity  
Shima 

In the End of Time, the universe will die. Along with it, everything it strived to create. At the End of the World, the universe is already dead. Along with it, the hopes and dreams of destroyed memories and broken souls, ready to move on but trapped in the endless Darkness so bright it's pure and painful. The Light is Darkness; they are one. They are Final. They will be Void. The Darkness is nothing, the Light is everything, and between them, the grey of Emotion, Elements, that period of time when you hover between living and dying. The grey that is joy and agony, painful and vivid. No two creatures can compliment each other... without giving rise to a third, for stability's sake. 

The stars were visible tonight, but if one looked closely, in the far out west, they could watch one slowly fade, fade into nothing. As though it never existed. Never lived, or even died. Only gone. But who would notice such a minuscule event, when thousands of other stars littered the night sky? 

A soft curse thrown into the damp, chilling breeze announced that the vanished spectral of light had, indeed, been taken note of. Taken note of... and feared. With this single light snuffed out, every moment in the last three years meant nothing now. All the hard work, his scars.. 

The Door was open again. 

"What is thinking, Shima wonders, hm?" 

Slowly, a man stood up from his crouch, the hem of his cloak damp from a puddle formed earlier that afternoon. From his spot in the center of the city, everything was available for his scrutiny. The noisy streets, the dirty buildings, the night sky. What was wet clothing to -that-? 

"I think," came the bitter reply, "Shima still has a lot to learn about respect." 

A bright weight settled down on his shoulder, and the fuzzy-green pixie folded its arms, insulted. "Is knowing what Shima thinks?? Is thinking rude man very grumpy. Is thinking rude man need break, sleep, food, and friend. Lonely is rude man, for Disney champion." 

A black glove shooed the pixie off his shoulder and Shima fell with a sharp cry; he disregarded it. "We have a lot more to worry about than Sora right now. He'll be joining us shortly, but at the moment, we have to return to Traverse Town." 

The green light started to swarm around him, and Shima stopped in his face, visibly upset. "Is driven nuts over rude man, Shima feels! If rude man not made responsibility of mouse king for Shima, mad and gone Shima be!" 

The little sprite did not have access to her companion's eyes, but he had access to her aura and that was all he needed to respond. "Start talking sense. And I'd prefer it if you called me by my name." 

And still, she was mad. "Are only rude man! Is not Legend hero Riku! Are only rude man!" 

Shima didn't feel it, and was caught off guard when the same gloved hand that knocked her down came whipping out, trapping her water-dewed wings and tiny arms between a palm and five fingers; she blinked, startled and shocked numb. 

Riku did not squeeze her into suffocation. No, his grip was just tight enough to keep her still. The ice in his voice, however, was much worse than whatever he could do to her physically. "You're supposed to be my Compass, Shima, but I've done much and many without your help. All you've been to me is a hindrance and local nuisance. And if it wasn't for King Mickey telling me I would need you, I would have cast you aside and never given you a second thought. Now, our third's destiny finally nipped him in the heels." _For real, this time._ "...We're going to Traverse Town, and you finally get to do your job: find him and hope to God that he has his own Compass with him. Got it?" 

Hesitantly, Shima nodded, yellow eyes wide and fixed on the pale face before her. Riku flattened his empty hand and place it under the pixie's feet, then let her go. Shima steadied herself on the offered platform and fluttered out of Riku's way, as he made to stand on the edge of his building. With a leap of faith, the boy fell into destiny's net, letting instinct guide him to safety, with Shima streaking a neon-green trail behind him. 

For once, she was silent. 

* * *

**Two days earlier, on a world called Demesne...**

From space, it was a polluted, lifeless planet, with dirty water and thin, nearly unbreathable air. Worthless, but to the survivors who were struggling to live, it was home. 

Follow any shattered road, cracked and up-heaved, and it will lead you to a ruined town or city every time. Houses burned down by fires that may still breathe, buildings nothing but foundations and broken walls, and trees, lamp posts, vehicles all rotted, rusted, and smashed. Time and battles that could not be fought back had taken its toll on the wilted land. 

People were nowhere to be seen; they remained hidden, scared and frightened of the horrible beasts that swept their once-upon-a-time homes for stragglers who either escaped them before or was unfortunate enough to get caught outside the safety of their new haven. The beasts didn't care, however, for they had no memory. If they missed someone, they could not identify the same person a day later as being familiar. It was the very reason they roamed the surface; they could not remember if it had been cleaned out... The ruin and destruction, however, -was- a memory. A constant memory to how they laid siege across defenseless rats. 

But today, there were no beasts out, only a child-turned-man scavenging the demolished treasure troves. 

At 17, he was a scrawny thing, half starved and jumpy. If it wasn't for the dark skin caked in dirt and mud or the untamed hair that hadn't seen a comb or brush in years, he might have been considered handsome. Black irises set in almond-shaped slits, framed with greasy grey-black locks, and accented by tiny scratches and scabs everywhere on his face. He didn't wear a shirt, only a cloth that was always falling off of his thin shoulders; it was barely enough to keep warm at night... or even the day for that matter. The same cloth that made up his shirt was practically his pants too. The ragged thing was tied around his waist by a thin rope and sewn together coarsely between his legs, the ends not even reaching mid-thigh. And it was not possible to miss how badly the rest of his body was banged up. 

All things considered, he was better off than most of the others he denned with. 

He was determined to find something worthwhile this time. The last time he'd gone out, his day was put on hold for the sudden appearance of the beasts. He'd been lucky to escape, but hardly learned from the experience except to run just a little faster. 

And now, he was flipping over slabs of sheetrock, concrete, tossing away bricks and pipes, and progressively digging his way down to the bottom of a pile barely touched by the others, due to said pile residing in a still partially dangerous building that threatened to collapse at any time. 

He hardly cared. 

The first good thing that came to view was a stuffed bear, missing a button eye and losing some of its stitching in arms and legs, with fluff peaking out of the rips. Its brown fur was worn and dirty and there was a gash on its left side. He cocked his head at it, curious, and tucked it away into his makeshift belt before continuing his search. 

"Hey, hey!" 

The call, so out of place in the subtle creaking and distant squawking, disturbed the air and the boy's concentration. He froze, heart racing faster than it should, and the chunk of stone he was lifting away slipped from his hand, crashing down into its previous resting spot. Somewhere in his mind, he knew it wasn't a threat, but it wasn't until he turned around did he begin to relax. "Furiol." 

And the other boy climbed over the slabs, practically using the same route he himself has used to get to the top. And this new boy, Furiol, was smiling. It wasn't a big smile; they had long forgotten how to smile in such bleak times, but Furiol was learning. "Mizu!" 

He was younger, less haunted by the rampages of the beasts, and people wondered if it would be right to expose him to their horrors, or keep him clean. Mizu didn't know either, as Furiol tended to be just as much as a burden as he was a welcome sight to sore eyes. But now, Mizu sighed, and idly thanking whoever was looking after him that his foot hadn't been where the stone had fallen. "Furiol," he chided when the other plopped down beside him, "how many times must we tell you to be quiet? You could alert predators or something." 

"Sorry..." But as Mizu rose to retry his lifting, Furiol noticed the animal at Mizu's hip. He wanted to giggle, or laugh, but it never came into existence. "I didn't know you needed a comfort toy, Mizu." 

"What are you--oh." He gave a brief look to the little creature before giving a slight shrug. "I don't. I found it a few minutes ago." 

"Are you suuure?" 

Mizu glared at the child. "If I /did/ need a toy like this, do you really think I'd take it outside in its ratty condition? No. I'd take better care of it instead of dragging it everywhere I go." 

Furiol's small smile brightened, but said nothing and quietly watched Mizu work. Half an hour later gave them a system of rusted pipes, an easy chair damaged beyond repair, and a torn blanket. Mizu tossed the blanket at Furiol, telling him to run along and make sure Jeomn got it. And the boy ran along to fulfill his mission, leaving Mizu alone once again. 

But another sound, not common at all, caught his ears, and he hissed at it. He ducked behind the pile, sheltered by the three surrounding walls and left only a window as large as the walls around him to spy. It was footsteps, light and human, but with a slight off-beat to them. Mizu lifted his head higher, slightly more assured of his safety, but didn't call out. 

Soon, a body accompanied the sound and Mizu's eyes narrowed darkly. It was Shelique, limping along the dirty path. Mizu lowered himself again, scowling. He never liked the look in Shelique's eyes; she was too shifty, too suspicious looking to be considered safe. It was just his opinion though. No one else saw anything wrong with her. In fact, they would pity her ten times over than ever accuse her of being 'suspicious looking'. A bone in her leg had healed wrong, hence the limp.. and the pity. 

He didn't like her. She seemed darker than the others, meaner, uglier. The very sight of her left a bad taste in his mouth. But for the life of him, he couldn't put his finger on why. 

And even this was suspicious. Shelique, in the broad daylight, out in the open, where if a beast were to appear, she would be helpless. He knew it, she knew it, they knew it, everyone knew it. 

So why? 

A growl bubbled in his throat and he waited until she vanished to the other side before hopping over the crown and slipped down to the ground, silent as humanly possible. 

It wasn't impossible to follow her; all around there were small nooks and crannies to duck behind and hide in. And him practicing stealth since the beasts' demolition, it was like taking food from a full blind man. The sun was beginning to lean toward the western horizon when Mizu finally realized where Shelique was heading. He cringed at the sight of it. 

It was a place they were forbidden to be near, let alone enter, because it wasn't built by native hands. But it wasn't made by alien claws either, which made it only the more dangerous. Mizu's expression twitched as he watched Shelique step into the black-stone, trapizoidal...thing. Once she disappeared int the darkness, Mizu split. 

He ran back down the same path Shelique had taken, past his digger's building, past the last standing street-marker, and into the tunnel well hidden in the rubble. He slowed down, if only to keep the people he passed calm and unworried. What he should have done was go straight to Jeomn and retell the short tale needed telling. Mizu wasn't a liar and Jeomn knew it... but even Jeomn might not believe the tall and unbelievable story of Shelique, of all people, entering that evil tomb. 

So he didn't. He didn't go to Jeomn and, instead, went straight to his make-shift 'room', a small cubby in the wall, with padding to sleep on and very few valuables. He flopped onto that padding, confused and tired; it wasn't even night time. 

The toy was still sheathed in his belt. 

* * *

It's...short. Yes, this is going some place. I've got the start and the end aaallllll figured out... I'm just...not too sure what the middle'll be like. I want it to be a short story, ...but I hate things being short, 'cause I feel if it's short, it's lacking in skill and enjoyment, so.. tell me what you think? Please? 


	2. Shima II

  
  
**Disclaimer**: I own Kingdom Hearts! ..No, literally. *holds up her game box* Do I own any of the characters in it? Chya, right. That's a big, fat No. But, while we're talking about owning things, I own Mizu and the three sprites (Shima, Kiri, and Yama). 

Also, this is a spin-off from the 'secret ending', so spoilers for it and the game abound. 

* * *

Sentinel Trinity  
Shima 

The main chamber was crowded with noise and dirty bodies, where many had erupted quite suddenly. In the doorway, Mizu yawned, woken up by the clamor and forced to see just what was going on to cause such a stirring. 

Many, if not all of the adults were up and surrounding Jeomn, shouting angrily and desperately about something. But why? It was barely morning and they all seemed like they'd been up for hours. But that couldn't be. The noise barely started a few minutes ago. Unless... 

Mizu maneuvered around the mass of flesh and trudged through, painfully managing to reach Jeomn. The head of their Den was old, with greying hair and sagging skin. He had lost more than a few teeth, but the wisdom in his dark eyes spoke of generations that passed. Vaguely, Mizu noted that he was wearing the same blanket he'd given to Furiol and felt a little better. 

In the chain of command, Mizu had none. But both children and adults had their ways about them, and the few that hovered on both took to caring where neither would, and that included elders. Upon Jeomn's face was a passive expression, silent and meditative, but the slight crinkle in his brow gave his disquietude away. Mizu rushed up to him and grabbed one of the torches from its floor-sconce, waving it around the crescent of people. "Silence!" 

A child who raises his voice among grown-ups is hardly worth the junk found above.. but a child demanding quiet while acting like a barbarian is something else. The dull roar became talk between each other, whispering about the insolence of children and whatever had been in question before. 

Mizu replaced the torch and knelt down before his elder. "Jeomn, what's going on?" 

Jeomn shook his head, opening his eyes to look at the boy. "It's nothing that we can change, so it's nothing to burden you with." 

"If it's enough to cause a riot and wake us up, I think we deserve to know." 

Jeomn regarded Mizu with a look-over, ever the leader, ever perceptive. He nodded and retold the story in a hushed voice. "There... is a problem. One of our night-watchers posted near the black stone saw it act up a short time ago. It shone as bright as a star, like a beacon. The watcher said the light shot up into the sky, then just stopped. After that, he saw tiny creatures scurry out.. Not like our own beasts, but just as evil." 

Mizu narrowed his eyes at the first mention of the black stone, grew more suspicious at each word. Shelique... "Jeomn, I need to speak with you." 

"I think this is more important than anything you could be concerned about--" 

"It concerns /this/," he hissed. "I saw something this afternoon." 

Jeomn regarded this boy carefully. He'd known Mizu for years, known his parents, his grandparents. The child came from an honest family. A good soul among the lost, the innocent, and the dying. "Tell me, then." 

Mizu opened his mouth to speak, then gazed warily at those who still surrounded them. Hesitantly, he leaned over and whispered what he'd saw Shelique do. It was quick, simple, but detailed and serious enough give Jeomn the impression that it was more than a simple tall tale. Jeomn himself could hardly believe it, however, as he too was convinced Shelique could do no wrong in their eyes. 

Such beliefs were now deceiving. 

"Do you believe me, Jeomn?" 

Jeomn pursed his lips together tightly and struggled to stand. Several people gasped in horror and a few rushed to help him, support him; Mizu was one of these people. Jeomn ignored them all and scanned the crowd thoroughly. "Where is Shelique?" 

They looked among themselves, wondering why she would be so important, but someone in the far back shouted, "She's in her hole, sleeping!" 

"Bring her. I want a word." 

* * *

At Jeomn's immediate insistence, a full-fledged search party was sent out into the dead of night, where their monsters patrolled randomly. Needless to say, the poor souls were a terrified lot, the torches in their hands shaking vibrantly and the make-shirt weapons clattered like freezing teeth. 

It was sad, to be honest. A poor bunch of meek creatures, weak and frail, cut off from the rest of their race, not knowing if they were the only survivors left. And now, their aging leader sent them out to a death sentence, all because of one disappearance. 

But if Shelique -did- go against their laws and enter the black tomb, now was the time to know just what drew her in there. 

Mizu, of course, had forced himself into the hunt, knowing something was wrong as well as feeling as though he was responsible in some way. He held not a torch but a mere shield, knowing an offensive weapon was useless to him; he'd never been good at that kind of defense. 

They were quick and fleeting, scared out of their wits but bound by loyalty to their own oath of survival: no one gets left behind. It was rare that it ever got put into use, because never did it apply to when the beasts scavenged the land; no, it was 'every man for himself' then. 

The black tomb would been so easily missed in the pitch void of night, had lit fire bins not been erected in front of it. It cast ominous shadows into deep crevices of the outer walls, making those who braved the night recoil. The bins have never been lit before...let alone burning a fire as pale as sunshine. 

Mizu pushed past them, stalking toward the very entrance of the small building. His insides were clenched tight, sweat trickled down his body like melted snow running down mountain sides. He was as scared as the next man, but he was still the only one out of the lot who saw Shelique as anything but innocent. 

Hit first steps through the forbidden entrance were short, for as soon as he was clear, a stone stab crashed down to seal the doorway and the darkness of the interior swallowed him up into its clawed hands, blinding him. And in that darkness, as his heart beat slowly calmed, something heavy and solid connected to his temple, sending him to the floor and slamming into what he could only suppose was a support column. 

True darkness took him swiftly. 

* * *

_Pretty ceiling_ was his first coherent thought, entertained by the shadows playfully jumping about in a light blue color. But too soon, he groaned painfully. Whatever hit him had left a nasty pounding in his head and it wanted very much to torment his sadly abused cranium. _With something like this,_ he mused, moving a hand to clutch at his skull, not hearing the rattle it caused in the process, _I should be thankful I'm not dead._

His vision was fuzzy, but soon his other senses came back, one at a time. He could feel he was recumbent, smell the musky stench of staleness in the air, hear the crackling of a fire close to his ear and feel its warmth, and saw, eventually, that he was on a stone altar of some sort. His legs couldn't move; they were shackled down to the surface of the table. His arms had limited move, barely enough for fingertips to touch the cuff on his opposite wrist. And to make matters worse, the top part of his tunic was in tatters, no longer on his shoulders and forever useless until the summer. 

_At least I'm not /entirely/ naked. Thank god for small favors._

The pain called to him, throbbing insistently and demanding the attention Mizu didn't want to give it, but he closed his eyes anyway and bit at his lip, trying his damnedest to assess the situation. _Chained down, no clue to where you are-- best guess is I'm still in the black thing-- and caught between a cold draft and a ...blue.. fire..... What is up with the colors, anyway?_

"You're awake." 

He shouted, taken fully by surprise, and tried to jerk away; all it got him was a twisted arm and collapsing back onto his back. A not-so-kind chuckled caressed his ears and Mizu turned his head to glare, albeit weakly, at its source. "What are playing at, Shelique?!" 

Shelique limped forward, a malicious scowl on her dirty face "'Playing'? '/Playing/'?! I am playing at nothing you little worm!" 

"Obviously not," he grumbled dispassionately, "if you're disobeying the man who promised to keep us all alive." 

"Alive?" She repeated venomously, looking straight down upon him. "Is hiding in a hole, praying that those things will go away, really classified as being 'alive', Mizu? We're walking /corpses/! We're just delaying the inevitable truth that one day, we won't be around here anymore, and Jeomn /knows it/!" 

"You ungrateful witch." The boy pulled at the chains to emphasize his words. "And what's this all got to do with the black thing? /And/ the need to tie me down?" 

Shelique sneered her smirk, devious in every sense of the word. "While the rest of you sheep were off gathering, I crept away to here, the Heart Beacon. I discovered its secret and the story behind its existence. With it, I can rid Demesne of the beasts, a genuine ticket of freedom!" 

Mizu gaped, amazed at the girl's naiveté. "Are you mad?! Can't you feel the /vibes/ of this place?? They aren't nice ones, you know!" 

Her face contorted in rage and brought the back of her hand hard against his face, snapping it to the side; Mizu's cry was subtle, if not just a grunt. They were silent, Shelique waiting for Mizu's retort and Mizu himself reestablishing his thought plan. "....So," he rasped, "I'll ask you again: what's the point to chucking me onto a slab of stone and restraining me when you could have more easily tied me up and left me in the corner?" 

"Because," she stated, in an air of unyielding confidence, "the writings say on the night before the ritual, the first being to step through the doors is to be my sacrifice." 

Mizu exploded into anger, disbelief, and fear. "_Sacrifice_?!" He shrilled "For what?!" 

She grinned then, and the boy recoiled; there was an evil gleam in her light eyes as though she was feeding from the shadows' emptiness. The true image of a benighted person. "The ritual requires a sacrifice of a heart. A very... special heart." And she leaned closer, nearly nose to nose. "The heart of a Keyblade Master." 

His eyes grew wider and wider with every key word she bore to light. And the lack of space between them hardly helped his mental bombardment of questions he himself could barely even ask. Shelique pulled away then, limping slowly from the room. "I'll save this world," she muttered as the darkness led her away. "One life to save a hundred others. ..Fair trade." 

Mizu's eyes never left the spot Shelique vanished from, his mind suddenly becoming louder. 

_Keyblade?  
What is that?  
What's so special about it?  
What's so special about my /heart/?  
A Sacrifice?  
Why is she doing this? _

_  
....Just how long was I out for, anyway??_

* * *

The night had come and gone, as had the morning, and Jeomn was the epitome of paternal worry for a son and daughter gone missing. 

When Mizu entered the black tomb and the entrance slammed shut, those who had only watched tried their best to reopen it, in a desperate attempt to rescue their comrade; some even searched the rest of the exterior for another way in. With the vanishing of a single boy did Jeomn's people forget their fears, quelled with another kind of emotion that had no name. 

Jeomn bowed his head. The elder was at a loss. It had been approximately eight hours since the tomb sealed itself. And with the dawn, they found more news to be disturbed over. 

It had been a strange, black creature. Small in size, scuttled around on two large feet, with eyes like yellow globes and antenna that waved around wildly. It appeared from nowhere and seemed alone.. 

_Heartless,_ his mind screamed. As the failed Heartkeeper for Demesne, it would be just his luck that the Heartless would -now- start appearing when the world was at its worst. And he had no doubts that it had to do with the black tomb coming to life last night. 

Was Shelique responsible? He didn't know. All he did know was that they didn't have a protector; surely, the Heartless will destroy their world. And he felt helpless to stop it. 

* * *

Time passed; Mizu would kill for a watch to know just how much. Or a sundial. Or the sun itself, if it helped with an estimation. 

The boy had gotten sick of asking himself for answers and instead, began to focus more on Shelique's final words. He wondered what it'd be like to have the old ways return, when they lived in apartments and went to school. He'd been too young to remember, a small babe of four who attended a private pre-school. A mother, a father, an older brother, he used to have a family. And now, Jeomn was his father and the children in their den his little siblings. They were just one big, dysfunctional family. 

Mizu frowned. What if Shelique was right? What if it only took his heart to undo all the wrongs the beasts committed? _No, it can't be. She's gotta be deluded. You /can't/ ignore the chill factor of it all._ "God dammit, Shelique, let me GO!" 

"Not in a hell's chance." 

He glared fiercely at the girl walking in, passive in heated violence. "You don't understand what you're doing. This place /isn't/ something you can mess around with!" 

But Shelique didn't answer, and Mizu squinted in the light. She was dressed in clothes he never saw before. They were rich, covered in alien, intricate designs. He was going to guess they were ceremonial; they were made for a woman, from the way they hung to every proper curve and much too intimate looking. Nothing he'd ever seen before. 

"The time has come, the night is here." 

If anything, the cryptic words gave him an inkling to how long he'd been there. And he thrashed in his bindings, wild. "Let me go, you stupid girl!" 

For the second time, she got in his face, sneering. "Why should I?" 

He returned the animosity whole-heartedly. "Because I'd rather be free to wring your neck!" 

Again with the silence. Shelique's eyes were moving, as though she was trying to find something in him... But all too quickly, the distance was lost and Shelique limped up to the wall closest to the alter and brushed her fingers delicately over a rather large symbol. 

A rumble of stone against stone alerted his senses and Mizu cast his gaze upwards. A slab of stone the size of the alter was retracting in the ceiling, revealing to him the brightly lit sky of the night. Side-by-side, the twin moons were directly over them, but cast in an uncanny blue light. 

The rare blue moons. 

His people had a saying: 'Once in a blue moon.' Having one blue moon in the sky was a beautiful and exciting experience. But they also had another adage: 'Beware the blue twins.' One blue moon was great, even if it was consecutive with another, but two at the same time was an evil omen. And it was one omen Mizu believed in. 

Mizu stiffened, suddenly more afraid now than when he'd come close to being caught by the beasts. _OhgodohgodI'mreallygoingtodieohmygod!_

Shelique now rounded the alter, placing herself between the two blue fires, her back to the doorway. A sharp flash of light caught his eye as she raised her arms in prayer and a cold sweat broke on his body. 

A long dagger, the metal of the blade mystifyingly translucent, was clutched in her hands. The jagged edge reflected the fire and the moon, making Mizu whimper to himself. _My heart, my heart, a kingdom for my heart!_ It sounded silly, but he would've been willing to give up anything if it meant he could live. 

Shelique went off mumbling to the opening, something he couldn't understand as the tongue was even more alien than her clothing. Mizu tried to press himself into the stone, hoping a dreamer's wish that he'd disappear into it, but reality, even in this nightmare, was still true to the laws of nature; they wouldn't be bent for a dirty child like himself. 

The words tapered away and Shelique looked from the moon down to her den-mate. Her eyes were empty and slowly, lowered the dagger to the left side of his chest. Mizu started thrashing again, maybe expecting to throw her off and spare him, but it didn't do anything but annoy her. She pinned his throat down hard, causing him to choke, and held his body down with her own. He stilled, for the most part, and Shelique brought the tip of the knife down onto his breast, carving a shallow circle around his heart; blood crept from the wound and trickled down his flank onto the alter. 

Mizu had a cry ready and waiting when her weight lifted and kept straining on the wrist shackles; there wasn't anything he could do for his feet. But when Shelique turned to the fire closest to his face, Mizu couldn't to anything but watch through teary eyes. 

She thrust the dagger into the now raging fire, the curved hilt protecting the dark flesh of her hand. When she removed it, the boy had a revelation about why the blade was translucent. The metal now shimmered with an ethereal glow, as though the fire was locked inside. Shelique also appeared mystified by the change... 

But then, that gleam was back in her eyes and raised the dagger high in both hands...Mizu screamed. 

The blade plunged deep into its intended target, setting off an instant chain of actions. Mizu's body arched off the alter, restricted only by the bonds that held him down. Inside of him, the fire spread throughout his veins, his muscles, his organs, his bones. The sounds rebounding from wall to wall were awful; Shelique didn't bat an eye. 

It was black witchcraft that kept him on the edge of life and death, when Shelique took the hilt and slowly began to remove the blade. But before it was entirely, a subzero wave of ice christened his soul, followed by the center of the sun found in the fire that burned his flesh. The heat kept his heart beat-- 

Mizu choked, gasping for air. There was a hollow feeling where the knife had slid and he forced his eyes open over the pain. His vision was white around the edges, hazy, slurred, but there was the reason. She held the dagger poised, unmoving, admiring with a childish lust the sphere of cotton-blue, embraced in white and baby-pink wisps. It held an age-old wisdom in its clean depth, a bright beacon in the dark, something to hold and know you weren't alone. ...He'd been cleaved of his heart. 

"No..." 

* * *

"Jeomn?.. What does it mean?" 

Cries of fear, of hate, of plain sadness. Tears soiled the dry ground. and he couldn't soothe them of the impending doom they knew was facing them with blood in its eyes. Jeomn bowed his head, unable to face Furiol's innocent terror as he answered, "It means our role in life is over... Dying for a reason only soulless creatures can fathom." 

One of said soulless creatures took the time to scuttle by, its stolen heart form a time whence leading it directly toward the action. A few of the ones who ventured outside recoiled at the wavering, yellow orbs in the semi-permeate dark, but many didn't notice, gaze caught by the two full circles whose edges just barely touched. The people of this den had braved the night out of horror of the blue-moon dilemma and wept for their lives. 

"We're to die tonight." _To die, to die, after protecting a boy. Be brave Mizu, and survive._

* * *

Inside of him, the heat of the blue fire fought to keep him conscious; Mizu just wanted to do anything that didn't require bondage: walk, run, pass on to the afterlife. His heart was slowly pulled off of the dagger and he sobbed dryly. Shelique cupped her hands around its subtle warmth, enthralled and mesmerized over its beauty. But the quiet of the night and fire didn't last, as Shelique rose her hand above her head and again began to chant those foreign words. 

He couldn't struggle more and was left to stare straight at the lunar satellites with weak eyes. However, he soon could see the moons glowing even brighter, as though they were reacting to Shelique's crazy whim. Her words reached a harsh crescendo and the moons became as bright as the sun, churning and blazing with a light as white as falling ice. Even with his vision failing, it was hard to miss. In real time, the sounds of Shelique's voice grew dim, but in that weakness, he could understand them, like comforting whispers. 

_"Guide us to salvation, End of Time. A heart to take this world and makes its people free! A heart that will save us all. An offer you can't refuse, an offer you can't refuse, an offer you can't refuse!"_

And the world went white. 

* * *

Shelique let her eyes widen at the sight of the moons' twin shafts of concentrated light filtering through the roof, striking the formless energy and filling it with a pure radiance that couldn't be defined. The heart grew hot and its beat grew louder. It moved faster and faster, uncontrollably so. In a way, it made her afraid... 

But when the same light that the moons created suddenly shot down at an angle to hit the lifeless body on the alter, she fell down in stupefaction. Cowering on the floor, Shelqiue could only watch as the luminance pushed its way into the fresh cut in the chest.. and the heart crawled down to it, like a bead on an abacus moved by unsure fingers. But it followed its moonbeam path into the cavity it once resided in.. and Mizu vanished. 

Gone, a complete lapse in reality. It happened so fast, she was nearly convinced it was a trick on her eyesight, for a sheer moment later he was back, free of his shackles and pale in the firelight. The cut on his chest had scarred over, a perfect circle with a vertical line drawn through it; she could see it once he sat up. His expression was vacant, lost, empty. Hardly anything more than a shell... 

"What--? How?! What did you do?!" 

The noise visibly made him jump and he gave her the most inquisitive and scrutinizing look. "Shelique?... But.. no, it's been years. ...Years, years, .. two? ... Where am I?" 

It was ruined! Fury became her motion and grabbed at the discarded knife from the cold floor. "You... You idiot! That was not supposed to happen!" She lunged, his throat in her sights. But he was too lethargic to understand, -couldn't- understand why Shelique was threatening him. But she didn't touch him. No, a force blocked her blow, knocking her away from him. She never saw the strange, oversized key on his other side, glistening dully and held loose in his grip. The source of all power that would protect and destroy... 

The billowing power of the moons went unnoticed in the temple, until it was too late. 

* * *

"Know so much, how?" 

It was a fair question. Shima hadn't been with him for all that long, a few months at best. But Riku felt it was too early to say. However, he didn't have much time left for them to be alone. Once they joined up with their third, Riku would never leave his side. "Because, I've met him." 

Shima blinked. She was sitting on his shoulder, finally in better favor with him after last night's blow-up. "Possible, is it no?" 

"End of the World hardly seems possible either, yet it exists. ...I met him." 

"Keyblade planet?" 

He nodded. "Third world in the Trinity. Nameless. He's never seen it before, and we weren't able to reach it before he needed to return.." 

"But..." She struggled with the wording of this one, unable to comprehend it in her own limited vocabulary. Instead, she tried to carefully form it into the speech-pattern of her companion. "..How could.... he..." She tapped her chin. "Possible to-- ... If he is.. on a..w-world, then how could he..be..uh, with you?" 

Riku stopped walking. Shima shied away, afraid of the more-solemn profile she had of him now. The sprite knew Riku would never intentionally hurt her, but at times, he was truly frightening, despite his eyes, his windows, being boarded up. 

"I don't know. I was still trapped in Kingdom Hearts when he appeared out of nowhere, /outside/ the doors, that much I remember, but I can't recall how we got out. 

"His Highness seemed slightly put off by his arrival. Even wondered what it meant. But the boy only shook his head, took the Keyblade that Mickey held..and gave it to me." 

Shima gasped and flit to face Riku. "Horrible! Rude him too!" 

Again, Riku shook his head. "It had to happen, Shima. Mickey was holding onto my true blade, he even admitted it. ...And the boy..He knew practically everything about the 'blades. But for the life of me, I can't remember anything he said." 

The pixie was left agape, in awe and almost insulted by this...Third. "Lost is your memory?" 

The man didn't answer right away, appearing as if he was mentally searching through all that his mind possessed... "Yes. ...Yes, my memory is gone. But not everything. I suppose it means I wasn't meant to remember what his knowledge was.. or his Keyblade, because I remember how long we were together, remember talking about Sora, remember a little of what he looked like." 

Shima exhaled, breathless, her tiny mind never having even imagined of something so queer. "How forget you did? Here then Key Master be, now planet home gone but gone Master now here too?" The sprite whimpered loudly. "Confused, Shima is!" 

"I don't understand it either." And he started walking again, past the bakery of Traverse Town's first district and shoved open the doors. 

Traverse Town was much more empty than it had been three years ago, now that the survivors' worlds had been restored. It had an eerie whistle to it when a breeze blew through, stirring sounds found in the darkest nightmares. But Traverse Town was no longer a place of fear, only a lonely salvation to the threats of the universe, housing at the most a total population of fifteen. 

Riku practically lived here as well, despite its horrible memories of Maleficent and her twisted intentions. The past was the past and Sora, in some unspoken vow, forgave him, before sealing the mammoth doors to Kingdom Hearts with Mickey's aid. _"Take care of her."_

Briefly, he wondered if Sora had managed to return home. ...Home. The islands with their beautiful scent, delicious scenery, and rang with the laughter of children who dreamed of things beyond their paradise. Kairi.... 

The white-haired man spent many a night tormented by her tears, her lifeless face, her love for Sora. And he had to wonder if Kairi knew who she really was. The seventh Princess of Heart, destined to draw the Keyblade Masters to herself. A Princess... and a dweller of Hollow Bastion. 

Ansem. 

The Hollow Lord was solely convinced of his victory, confident in his own darkness and his research of the Heartless, he occasionally let his guard slip. And with Riku's mind still functioning with Ansem's possession, he was able to see into his mind. He's seen people. All sorts of people who smiled at him, respected him as a benevolent ruler. But he also saw Kairi... and immediately knew the truth. 

But seeing what Ansem once saw had not come at a low price. No, Ansem broke him, tortured his heart as the once-Lord learned his own truth, and about what connected him so to Kairi. 

They'd been the same person for a single instant and the feeling had left Riku sick to his stomach and weak all over... 

"Shima, do your job." 

Shima smiled and started to twirl around, green sparkles of light cascading from her tiny whirlwind. Riku watched from behind his blindfold, squinting even in the make-shift dark. This is what Shima was for, this is how a Compass operated. She was the Island, his assigned fairy to specifically find one of the other Keyblades. And he might as well make her useful and their little hunt all the more easier. 

Suddenly, Shima shot out from the ball in a streak of lightning and dove for the left path, shouting, "Follow me!" 

Riku didn't have to be told twice. 

Shima's path led into the Hotel and through the blue room, out onto the balcony and down into the alleyway; Riku took note that the room was empty as he ran between one door and the next. The fall from the terrace to the ground was child's play and the man watched as Shima's instincts took her into the mouth of the waterway. 

Traverse Town wasn't a big place, but if he -was- in the cavern, well, Riku felt like he personally was cheated of something, as though the other wielder would be harder to find. Yes, he gave Shima her mission, but still. 

The water was cold as he hurried through it, following the neon-green trail the pixie automatically left. But in the underworld cavern, the trail didn't end. It, in fact, passed right through the ideal training area and up into the passage beneath Merlin's previous residence. Riku grinned slightly. 

The rising platform at the top of the stairs still worked (a parting gift from the Arthurian magician perhaps), reacting to Riku's sudden weight and slowly began to rise to the building above. 

Inside, the green trail took a sharp turn to somewhere behind him, turning Riku 180 degrees in the process. And there Shima was, hovering over a prone, slumped form by the doorway, a brazen and silver Keyblade slackly gripped in one hand laying beside him. 

Shima buzzed about him anxiously, like a hummingbird trying to find the best way to approach a flower blossom; Riku didn't blame her. On the other hand... _Of all the places to wind up, it had to be the farthest from the hotel. And surrounded by more water. ...One way or another, I'm going to end up even wetter._

Ignoring Shima's worried hecklings, Riku dropped to his knees and gently lifted the boy's chin up to see his face. Comparing it to what he could recall, he was a grimy version of who he knew, dirty to the extent of nearly being disgusting. But it was him, no doubt. 

It was hard to push away the fact that the boy was a greaseball in the making, but Riku hefted the feather-light frame into his arms and walked back to the rising platform. Riku crinkled his nose as the platform lowered them back into the cavern and stated as blandly as possible, "Welcome back to Hell, Mizu." 

* * *

Yeah, now this makes up for all that wasn't in the first part. Would you believe I finished the Riku scene before Mizu's finale? ^^ :DD Oh, and keep your eyes out for Sora in the next part. S'about time I got to him and his posse. 


	3. Sekai I

  
  
**Disclaimer**: I own Kingdom Hearts! ..No, literally. *holds up her game box* Do I own any of the characters in it? Chya, right. That's a big, fat No. But, while we're talking about owning things, I own Mizu and the three sprites (Shima, Kiri, and Yama). 

Also, this is a spin-off from the secret ending, Another Side Another Story, so spoilers for it and the game abound. 

Oh and don't let the shower stuff fool you. No pr0n, no romance, nuttin'...unless I'm asked nicely. :3 *has only two pairs set in stone; mix'n'matching has commenced!* 

* * *

Sentinel Trinity  
Sekai 

Worlds were literally everywhere; finding one was like finding a needle (as well as an acorn-totting squirrel) in ten hundred acres of haystacks. And after three years of looking for the needle and squirrel, Sora was just about to fall over and died of straight-out misery. 

The search was also affecting his companions, in a way Sora hadn't imagined. With their cartoon-ish appeal, the brunette had never once wondered about their age. But now, with Goofy sporting slivers of grey fur and Donald trying to hide his exhaustion behind his sharper multitudes of attitude, Sora was beginning to wonder if he should just send them back home and spare them the pain. 

Home. Their beloved Disney World and the Magic Kingdom. It had been almost a year since their brief return and their discovery of King Mickey upon the throne. A _blind_ King Mickey. So many questions, so few answers, but it was as evident as the existence of sunshine that the mage and the knight were overjoyed to be reunited with their lord. 

Sora had convinced himself the pair would stay now, with Mickey safe and back on the throne, and was prepared to face his future alone. But when Goofy insisted on following him to the very end, Sora's burdened heart relieved itself of some pain. Donald wasn't as easily moved to return to space, not with Daisy and the triplets at arms length, where he could see them. However, after a full barrage of biting remarks from the mallard's own uncle, Donald consented stubbornly with his trademark string of utterances and mumblings. 

Scrooge McDuck ultimately had a way with words, seeing as they were just as vulgar as Donald's, if not more potent and direct. 

It was sometime during the family reunions when Mickey had pulled Sora aside to talk privately and offered him a way to track Riku down... The young Keyblade Master had let the biggest smile stretch over his lips and pounced on it. 

....And right now, it was said offer who called for his attention at the moment, rather insistently. Sora looked up, trying not to raise his hopes... trying not to squash them. "What is it, Yama?" 

Yama, his red Compass floated inches away from his face, looking guilty as he always did when he couldn't sense Riku's energy on a world. "Sorry is Yama, Legend hero Sora. Here not Spira champion is." 

Sora exhaled with a nod and dropped himself onto the bench behind him; the faerie sat delicately on his shoulder, hating when he had to deliver the bad news to his companion. All it seem to do was make Sora feel worse and worse. 

And those who followed him also felt the effects. Donald and Goofy exchanged glances, having no more to say to the boy. Each world turned out the same and they personally took it upon themselves to keep Sora's hopes up about reuniting with both Kairi and Riku; if Sora lost his hope, there wasn't much left in the ways of universal redemption. 

Donald padded over to him, looking up at the distraught boy with a scowl. "Sora, I know this is frustrating, but Riku's the type that knows how to keep one step ahead of us. We should concentrate more on finding the Destiny Islands and Kairi, then worry about Riku." 

"I wish I could.." A slow, ghostly tear rolled down his cheek and lingered silently on his chin. "But I have the worst feeling something's wrong, somewhere. And Riku... It's just hard, Donald. I'm tired and wish it could all end. But we're still out here for a reason and I can't just abandon it, even when I feel like quitting." 

"Well, hey!" interjected the knight, sauntering over as well. "Why don't we, er, go back to Traverse Town and take a break! We've passed through eleven worlds in a row now and, uh, we could probably use a vacation day right about now." 

"Goofy's right, Sora," stated the duck, pointing Save the Queen at Sora's nose. "We should probably take a break for now. I'm sure we'll find your home and Riku when the time is right." 

The park they were in remained still, as the two waited for Sora's answer and as Sora tried to make up his mind. It was then tiny fingers brushed his chin and the brunette looked up to find Yama hanging in the air in front of him, hands cupped together and holding the one tear in his red grasp. "No help to leak, Sky-borne. Joy is water salted meant for." 

Sora blinked, as though the faerie's crazy speech structure made no sense in his muddled mind. But slowly, the boy smiled. A half, wistful smile that seemed just as fake as it was real. "I'll keep that in mind." 

Suddenly, Sora was on his feet and for a shared moment, he became the child he abandoned long ago: sparking eyes and a jubilant, cocksure smile, true to form on a face alive with energy. He immediately started jogging back toward the Gummi ship, Yama continuously by his side, calling over his shoulder, "C'mon you guys. Let's go back!" 

It was their old friend, back from hiatus. How long would he stay? Not long; he never stayed long. But for the time being, he was there...and Goofy and Donald couldn't help but smile and chase after him. 

~ * * * * ~ * * * * ~ 

Floating. 

Drifting away into nothing. His body was weightless, suspended in animation, like sleeping on water. Lazy, lethargic, he wanted... _Where am I?_ ...wanted sight. His eyes rebelled, refusing to open any further than slits. And all he could see was grey. 

Grey, blue, white, purple, green... Wet colors. The sort of scheme associated with water. Water... He could hear the subtle dripping from somewhere far away, the gentle sloshing of a pool being rippled across, and the faint smell of something pleasant, a scent he didn't find familiar. But he liked it, and there he remained. Quiet, passive, and dead. 

The sands of time passed. It slipped by from the top of an hourglass to the bulb below, but he soon heard muffled thumps all around him. In his ears, against his body, he now wanted to see...! 

A harsh sound, like that of a body plummeting into the ocean made him stir, feeling a pressure against his back lifting him upward. He groaned almost silently, an escaping noise, as he felt himself become heavier. Like he was leaving the water. 

"...no..." 

"Awake yet?" 

Mizu's heart jumped, terrified, at the garble of words he couldn't yet understand. _Awake? ..I was asleep?_ He groaned again, trying to move, to open his eyes, to fall back into the safe haven. "....back.....put...back.." 

There came no reply; instead, he was suddenly enveloped in warmth on one side. Mizu clung to it instantly, wishing it would cover all of him, not even wondering where it came from. It was there and greedily, he wanted to steal it. Because it was there, with him. And he was alone. Alone with a voice who didn't listen and a pocket of warm space for him to have. 

  
  
  
  
A plan that only backfires either leaves a greater opening or hell to pay. In this case, Riku's hopes of rousing the boy dampened, as Mizu was curled against him like a whimpering child, more asleep than not but thankfully with one foot in consciousness. Ultimately, what Riku needed was Mizu's attention, but time was running short and Mizu wasn't cooperating. At all. 

Again, the boy stirred, mumbling something about 'jasshoppers', and Riku had a nasty feeling about just how long he'd sleep for if the white-haired boy didn't get him on his feet soon. 

"Mizu!" he barked. 

The shout must've jarred -something-, as the aforementioned jerked awake quite abruptly in his hold, confusion on his face and his mind still clouded. Mizu stared up at the pale vision above him, finding it as a semblance of order in his hazy view. "..uh?" 

Riku felt his expression soften; the boy was adorable when he was being dumb, something he couldn't recall about his phantom partner. _Something Sora perfected._ "Hey, kid. You /really/ need to get up. You overslept." 

The darker boy blinked, unable to focus on anything but the masked face over him. "..Over...slept?" Clueless. Completely clueless. "But.. Wha....Do I know you?" 

_Only in another lifetime._ "No, but I have a bad story to tell you." 

"Story?" 

Riku nodded and Mizu grew quiet, as it finally dawned on him to look around. "...Where are we?" 

"Don't worry about it; I'll tell you everything once we get you cleaned up, okay?" he replied, with all the casualness he could muster; anything to appear more human. "But." 

Mizu looked up at him, eyes open and vulnerable; Riku had to close his own to keep from sensing them. "But," he said again, "you need to know this: you aren't home anymore and pretty soon, I'll explain it all. But right now, you need a bath. Badly." 

It was probably a word he'd only heard a few times in his life, judging by all the grime and the look of pure... wonder on Mizu's face, a face that dropkicked a thousand different frozen memories in his direction. Riku wanted to seethe in anger, in frustration. _Damn you._ Instead, the man's nose crinkled at the idiocy of it all and hefted Mizu again into his arms, this time carrying him away from the waterbed and to the bathroom. 

Steam was already pouring from the shower and a faelite hovered shiftily around the taps, trying her hand at getting just the right temperature. When Riku set Mizu down on his feet, the latter could only stare at the living light of green, ignoring how his legs wobbled and buckled. So much ran through his mind... and he hadn't even touched the ones that concerned how he got to such an alien place. "What...?" 

Riku didn't even have to follow the hand that was pointing, to know what -- who had caught Mizu's eye. "Her name's Shima, and right now, you owe her your life." 

The boy shifted nervously, unable to think, unsure of what he'd find when he finally did. But a part of him, a sightless churning in his chest, trusted the blind-folded stranger with a second life. {_What's your name?_ **Riku.** _How do you see?_ **I don't.** _Is this place real?_ **You're dreaming in death.**}, he wanted to ask, but every question was answered with an echo of Riku's voice. Instead, something else bumped them all out of the way, like a bully to his knowledge; when he asked before, it was a simple reflex. However, this man's answer no longer satisfied him and now restated it with every intention of setting his mind at ease. 

"...I swear I know you," he murmured softly. "Do I??" 

The silence did not stay quite. With water streaming from an orifice in the wall and Shima humming merrily to herself, there was no lack of sound to be tense from. Finally... 

"Once upon a time, you did," Rike spoke with the same quiet hush Mizu used, in a tone vaguely resembling romantic confessions of the once-loved-once-lost. But it wasn't sadness that coated the words of forlorn. It was the subtle confusion of someone used to knowing more than he let on, but dangled such information above another's head. 

Together, they made the perfect pair of lost bodies. 

Mizu bit his lip, scared and shy, frightened but enchanted. He hadn't gotten a good look at the previous room, but while Riku busied himself with other things, every secret this chamber bore on its sleeve was open for Mizu to take in. 

Each piece of decoration, porcelain, and toiletry invoked a lost memory from his childhood, before the chaos and life was better. His mother-- a faceless shadow-- bathing him with her hands, massaging his scalp with soap, talking to make him smile. Joy. Unadulterated joy, from himself, from her, in a space like this, where white replaced the blue and smelt just the same. 

"Mizu." 

Jarred back to the present, Mizu shifted his vacant gaze back to Riku. The silver-haired teen was looking at him expectantly-- The younger boy stared incredulously. Riku was a new inhabitant of his life, who hid himself away. So where did Mizu get off knowing the emotions of a reclusive stranger? 

Mizu stepped forward, his gazed trained to the floor as he obeyed what was required of him. Shaking fingers reached down to undo the twine around his waist, stopping once he registered the tattered scraps that had previously covered his torso. _When did that happen?_

"Just get undressed." 

_Right._ There wasn't much left of his 'clothing', and didn't dwell too long on the notion of getting more. The cloth and string fell to the tiled ground, leaving him as bare as a newly born child. Modesty wasn't an issue; Mizu had been surrounded by half-covered people for as long as he could remember, but even under the duress of a blinded stranger-- _Yes, stranger,_ he officially decided, no matter what the 'whispers' said-- he felt more than naked. 

The pale-haired man laid out his hand, palm up, for the younger to take. Mizu reached out for it and let it hover for the moment, hanging just over the other's. "....You know my name," he said, dashing his tongue out to lick his lips in the pause, "but I don't know yours." 

_We'll start anew. You're important to me, Riku, I feel this. But there's a door in front of my memories. You can unlock whatever that white light hid from me. I know you can._

"Liar," Riku soothed. "But if it'll make you more comfortable hearing it, I won't hold it from you. ...... I'm Riku." 

"Pleasure to meet you." And he dropped his hand into Riku's waiting limb, letting himself be drawn closer to this...shower device and, ultimately, something more defining than a mere name. 

* * *

"Here." 

Mizu looked up from his chest, up at Riku who stood before him, holding out a neatly folded pile of....something. Apparently, it was for Mizu to take, so he did so in hesitance. "Um...what is it?" 

"The outfit you left behind." 

The darker boy let his jaw fall slack, his eyes going from the pile to Riku and back again. He didn't say a word, and Riku didn't react much either. In fact, all Riku did was roll his shoulders, popping out kinks and stretching worn muscles. "I've told you four times already, I /will/ explain. But right now, figure out how to get yourself into those and stop picking at your scar." 

His scar. Mizu tipped his chin down again, letting the clothes fall onto his lap to keep poking at the revolting thing on him. He had finally noticed it when the warm water-- warm water! He never imagined such a thing!-- washed away his lethargy and really -woke up-. A lot of temporarily forgotten images had returned to him then, but the one most heavy was when that blade slid into Mizu's chest. 

The scar represented Shelique's mark from trying to remove his heart, the circle she cleaved into him above it...and a perfectly vertical line from top to bottom where the knife had plunged; they created two halves of a permanently tattooed sphere. It made Mizu feel as though it was inviting someone else to come and take it from him. 

Despite having freaked out at the sight of it, Mizu was now calm enough to constantly inspect it, fascinated and disgusted simultaneously. All that really mattered, in the long run, was that his heart was still there, stirring and beating beneath it. 

"You have all the time in the universe to study it Mizu," Riku stated sternly. "Get dressed." 

Mizu complied with a light exhale, standing up and pulling out the various articles to size them up. They looked...a lot like what Riku wore, and that intimidated him. The most complex thing he ever saw somewhere was a pair of pants, for crying out loud. How was he supposed to get this right?? 

Once everything was laid out on the bed, Mizu studied everything. Already, he recognized basic items, a black top that comfortably resembled his tunic, aforementioned pants, and a cloak, but that was it; everything else was alien to him. The raven-haired teen frowned in confusion and idly reached to scratch the back of his head, like the action could help him. 

He shivered, suddenly, as he felt his own fingers run trough his hair. It was free of grease and grim and smelled wonderful, like the rest of him. Before he knew it, he was smiling, teeth showing and everything. God it hurt to smile, but it hurt good and Mizu wasn't going to stop if he could help it. 

Riku had showered with him, but only after turning down the lights to the point where all Mizu saw was cool silhouettes of everything, traced by the faint light shining above them through the tiny windows, high on the wall. And he had watched as Riku pulled himself free of his blindfold, casting it aside with the rest of his laundry. 

_"I bathe in the dark," he whispered, "so I can See."_

Two men, naked together? Mizu didn't bat an eye at the thought; having Riku help him with all those bottles and gels and whatnot was the biggest blessing he had in a long time. And it had been....fun. Warm water, a new acquaintance to share it with, and feeling extremely high-spirited coming out of it. There was even his introduction to a clever thing called a towel... 

Now, how to conquer -this-. "Can't you help me, Riku?" 

"You learned once," he explained from the table across the room; Shima was sitting boldly on his shoulder, giggling childishly behind her hands. "It's not that hard to piece together. Try to remember." 

"I'm staring. I'm trying. I'm not remembering a thing here." 

Riku sighed noisily, and waved his hands. "I'm gonna get you started then, but I want you to be able to do this yourself at one point. First off, start with the black tank." 

Well, only a couple of pieces were black, and Mizu had to play the sorting game, trying to weed out whatever this 'tank' thing was. Finally, he settled on the half-tunic. "...This?" 

The paler man confirmed his selection with a single nod. "Over the head, arms through the top holes. Make sure the white tag goes in the back." 

Eventually, Mizu began to get the hang of it. The socks took a while to get on, the underwear was nothing complex, and the pants required a bit of explaining to insure they stayed on his hips, but Mizu was wholey satisfied with himself afterward. Inside, having so much on his back excited him and was envious of Riku, that he could take a rare pleasure for granted. 

Now...it was time to tackle that big thing. 

Mizu was positive the cloak-piece went last; on the other hand, he wasn't very sure about the remaining things. On the side, there were also...belts. Many and all different. And the monster in the center, the double padded.....-thing-, a blue-over-white deal. "Who picked this stuff out again??" 

"You did. I just made suggestions." 

"Choosing time took!" added Shima, who recently started flitting from the last articles on the waterbed. "Handsome Water-borne, in suited uniform half. Indeed handsome so." 

The supposed Water-borne blushed at the sprite's compliments and he ducked his head to hide beneath his draping locks. "Thanks, I guess." 

Shima gave a squealed giggle and buzzed around Mizu's head. "Is Shima upset so, is seen Legend hero Mizu before never." 

He couldn't decipher her current babbles and, with a panicked expression, looked to Riku for help. Riku smirked, as if he was sharing a private joke with someone. "Shima hasn't met you before now, and she wishes she had. However..." Slowly, he got onto his feet, his energy shifting from 'vaguely amused' to unreadable. "She may not be in our company too much longer. With you found, her job is considered done. Putting aside her Compass abilities, she leaves very much to be desires." 

Dead silence. 

Mizu didn't speak, and stared intensely at Riku, his voice caught and emptied, unable to utter a sound. Shima appeared similar, floating in midair with eyes on her human, full of nothing describle....until anger once more got the better of her. "Is only rude man!" she screamed. "Is only rude, shameful, cold cold cold man! Is not Legend hero Riku!" 

With that, convinced she finally cut him, Shima zipped out of the hotel room through the window facing the alley. In the wake of her departure, Mizu shifted uncomfortably. "You know," he whispered, unsure if it was his place to speak. "That /was/ sort of blunt, Riku." 

The older teen snorted and gave an emphasized shrug of one shoulder. "Don't worry 'bout it. She'll calm down in a while and come back later." As an afterthought, he added in way of explanation, "She upsets easily, but also has a quick conscience; she's forgiven-and-forgotten quite a bit in the past months." 

Mizu tipped his head to the side, curious of the way Riku spoke. "Do you know why?" 

"Because I don't." Before Mizu could comment, he quickly continued. "Anyway, that was intentional. I needed to talk to you. Something I didn't need her around for, and I'd like you to be honest." 

"....Okay," he said, trending with caution. "What is it?" 

"From since you woke up, to /right now/, have you given any serious thought as to why and how you're here? Not on your world but a new one, with someone who knows you, and whom you barely remember....and all these other things. ..Have you?" 

The darker boy appeared lost for a moment, then turned away to roll the question around in his mind. And the answer surprised him. "I...I haven't," he replied, looking back to Riku in confusion. "I didn't wonder. ...Too /much/ anyway. At the start, I did, but afterward, I merely stopped. Like..." He teethed on his lip in concern. "...Like I felt as though everything is okay. ...Riku, it feels like I know things. A lot of things, in fact. I feel," He paused, "as if this is where I should be, no questions asked. Not many, anyway." 

Riku seemed satisfied with his answer. "I guess I have two stories to tell you. Finish getting dressed; I'll be right back." 

"Huh??" Mizu quarter-turned as Riku aimed for the door, panicking again. "Where are you going??" 

"To see if I can get the café to make a delivery." With Mizu's panic came Riku's vague amusement, playing idly in the corners of his mouth. "I'll be gone for three minutes. ....By the way, the mail-cloth goes next." 

Mizu gaped in disbelief, and snapped his jaw shut when the door closed. With only the sound of the wind hitting the blue curtains to keep him company, Mizu hugged himself nervously. 

Alone. 

_He said he'll be back soon, darn it! Just put on the....mail-cloth, he said?_ Mizu looked down at the bed and eyed the double-padded thing. Mail. Mail was a type of armor; Jeomn once mentioned it in a conversation. Mizu lifted it up, this time getting a better feel for it since he laid it down for the first time. 

Jeomn said mail was a metal armor made from tiny loops linked together and was very heavy for the bearer. The mail-cloth wasn't much heavier than a light, wooden chair. Hardly anything compared to a real weight, but it -was- heavier than the rest of his outfit. The white part was made from the same sort of fabric the pants were; it was the velvet-like blue piece on the back and half the front, that felt burdening. 

_Here goes nothing._ With an effort, Mizu managed to get it over his head, but got tangled in the arms. He fought the sleeves and struggled valiantly, but it was only a few seconds before Riku's return was he victorious over the mail-cloth. 

His mental gloating, however, was dampened by a torrent of chortles from the rearrival as the door shut behind him. Mizu glared at him poutishly. "What?" 

"It's on backwards." 

Oh. 

_Oh._

"Oh." He looked down at himself in exhaustion. "Would you mind...?" 

"Not at all." 

So in actuality, the mail-cloth was half a posterior and a full breast. Common mistake; it could've happened to anyone. 

When everything was finally on, the overhead clock struck eleven o'clock in the evening. As Mizu took to looking himself over in the full-length mirror, Riku commented dryly, "/That/ didn't take too long; only thirty-five minutes." 

"Did I ever tell you in those missing years about what my home was like?" Mizu shot back. 

"I'm sure you did, but seeing what you were wearing beforehand, you don't need to tell me again; the rags speak for themselves. Now come here and sit. We've got more to talk about." 

* * *

That was a positively boring chapter. No action, hardly even a Keyblade! .... It was actually a subtle indepth look at both Riku and Mizu, how Mizu feels and...how inadequate he is at dressing himself. It also hints at the K.Master / Compass relationship; you can figure it out if you squint and read between a couple of lines. And I really wish I could draw Mizu's outfit, so I'm not stuck having to describe it. *vein* 

Mmmm, naked older soaking-wet Riku. Hah, I totally bet them Isle boys've skinnydipped in the ocean before, when the girls weren't around or when the boys plain-out ditched them. *busty grin* Happy thoughts, happy thoughts! 


	4. Shima III

  
  
**Disclaimer**: I own Kingdom Hearts! ..No, literally. Here's my game, its box, its instruction booklet.... Do I own any of the characters in it? Chya, right. That's a big, fat No. But, while we're taking about owning things, I own Mizu and the three Compasses (Shima, Kiri, and Yama).

* * *

Sentinel Trinity  
[Yuurei] Shima III

_can it be done?_

**with a little time and patience**

_can we spare either?_

**can -you-?**

_you can't get all big and bad on me i've done my job we're depending on you for the rest_

**have you done anything to find the final sentinel?**

_sentinel this sentinel that they're working on it no one has any sort of clue_

**my work is meaningless if we can't find that world but we can only blame ourselves for not preparing them faster we're taking before for granted**

_i wouldn't know obviously_

**take it from me -find that world-**

* * *

Mizu was gawking.

He had every -right- to gawk, reality rationalized, for how many times are you told a story that sounded similar to the long and tedious tales parents read to their children before bedtime, with clashing knights and maidens in peril, only to discover you play a secondary character in its plot?

Dinner was long over and no leftovers in sight; Riku retold the accounts of himself, a boy named Sora, a girl called Kairi, and a radical slew of other background characters, from pirates to good-men-gone-bad, from whales to battle tournaments, from deserts and magic carpets to the deepest pits of the jungle. And all the while Mizu listened with the same attention he paid to the contents of delivery packages; a famish soul desiring things he swore didn't exist any longer.

His ear to the story, his mouth and teeth on whole potatoes. If he'd been home, a telling like that would've given children sweet dreams and the adults....well, they're men and women of a life worse than death. To them, it would merely be a faerytale. Himself....

"/I'm/ in this too?? I don't get it; how is that possible?"

Riku's cool regard unnerved him, as if saying Mizu should've already known this. "I was hoping you would be able to tell me, but your memory's proven to be worse than mine. I know that I travelled with you, and you knew much more than two Sponsors. But you vanished about six...seven months ago? And with you went everything important you told me." For a moment, he turned thoughtful and quiet, more an out-loud query to himself than for Mizu to comment on. "I don't even remember how we met you..."

Mizu dropped his gaze, his apprehension guilt-filled toward his own supposed memory-loss. All he remembered was the White taking him from the pain, and waking up with Riku. He didn't want attention drawn to himself right now; it was too much to look upon. He changed the subject as best as he could. "Who's 'we'?"

"His Highness, King Mickey. He rules the Magic Kingdom of Disney World, and is Sora's Sponsor. We--...all three of us travelled back there, once out of the Darkness, to restore his throne. And then...well, you and I set out."

"And what about Sora?" Mizu lifted his head, frowning sadly. "Why aren't you trying to find your world too? Or letting him catch up with you?"

"Sora's destiny is a much deeper path than mine." Riku started playing with a stick of chopsticks. "True I was the original Keyblade Master, but even an original's role doesn't have to go so far. This time, it's his protégé who must face the battles the original never will."

"....And what about Kairi?" He tread cautiously as he said her name, placing himself submissive. "The way you spoke of her...it made her sound important. How important is she?"

Riku stayed quiet, until he finally snapped the wooden utensil in half. "She's Sora's responsibility," he murmured. "I relinquished my right to protect her after I told him to take care of her." He straightened and was he not blindfolded, he would've been staring Mizu deeply in the eyes. "Understand this. I was the puppet stringing Sora along by the hands of my own twisted Sponsor. Ansem was in control of all those worlds from the very moment I surrendered my heart, thus forcing Sora to take up the mantle. And /you/ were 'born' the instant Sora took the Heartbreaker blade, shoved it into his chest, and became a heartless to release Kairi's heart. Because hers beat inside him.

"There's something in your head that knows why this is all happening, what the connection is, and that's why you're coming with me. I won't stop looking for the answer, Mizu. It all has to end somewhere, and when the time comes, you, Sora, and myself will be there, with no questions left to ask. Because we'll know everything when it does."

The clock ticked louder and louder, and when it chimed the hour, it was ear-splitting in Mizu's head. "....Riku, please, this is too much. I-- Maybe I do know something, but right now I /don't/. And I wish I could answer everything you wanted to know, but I /can't/. So...maybe you could go easy on me? I'm not immune to pressure."

Riku's lips twitched. "I apologize. ...Look, this is what we're doing. We need to see King Mickey and we'll see about getting you back in form once we're done there."

"......Huh??"

The teen managed a chuckle, and his smile was half-empty. "I do recall saying something about a keyblade... Forget so soon?"

Mizu promptly blushed. "Oh! Um, no, I didn't, but how am I supposed to-- HOLY!" He lurched backwards, and gravity's groping hands caught both him and his chair, and pulled them crashing into the floor. The predominantly gold key with silver-accents manifested in Riku's outstretched hand, a spiraled shell chain dangling from the base of the hilt. Mizu's eyes boggled at the splendor of it, and shocked to all hells and back that it could appear out of thin air. "How the heck did you do that?!"

Riku shrugged.

Mizu choked and flailed out of his awkward position, rolling onto his hands and springing to his feet. Off-centered, he tripped in his standing, but stumbled without further injury to Riku's side. Riku turned the blade horizontal, offering it, and tentatively, Mizu took it in hand.

It radiated warmth, and was heavy the first moment it fell into his hands. But no sooner had the thought came to mind, it lightened into a balance that was perfect. Mizu held it upright. "....This is yours."

"Yep."

The younger teen took an experimental downward diagonal slice, suddenly entranced and unaware of his motions. "..It's called the....it's the Spiral Key. Its sentinel origins are from the world Spira."

"Yep."

Pure wonderment blossomed on Mizu's face and spun with the blade out, pivoting on his foot. "Its Sponsor is a woman, the second since the keyblade was called upon."

"...Yes."

A grin broke free and excitement shined in his eyes when he gazed back to Riku, having not heard the hurt in Riku's voice, previously held in check with the acknowledgement of his Sponsors. "Its /telling/ me this."

"It has every right to," he remarked in a casual air. "You're its comrade, a brother-in-arms to its partner. It will not hide anything from you."

His grin faded, and brought the sword back into view. He ran his fingers over the cursive-like protrusion at the end. "What about mine?" he asked. "I...don't know what to do."

Riku cocked his head upward and stood from his chair, taking his spot beside Mizu and relieving him of the keyblade. "Don't worry, you had yours when I found you, but I had to send it away. ..Look, you know how the keyblade adjusted to your grip, right? The weight?"

"Y-yeah." Mizu nodded rapidly.

"Then we'll do this." Riku stiffened his back and placed his feet together, held the square hilt down at his beltline and aimed the blade up at an angle. "Copy my stance, do what I do, and remember what it felt like to hold my 'blade, because that's how yours will feel to you. The weight, balance, its very presence will be a light in your mind. It's in you somewhere, and when you find it, you can call it out without even thinking to. It'll just happen, every time you need it to be in your hand. Left foot back."

Mizu mimicked Riku pose per pose, confused by it all. It didn't feel familiar, and neither had holding the adjusted Spiral Key. It felt -good- to have a keyblade in hand, but beyond that, there was nothing. _Can I really call on it like he says I can? I...haven't held it yet. Oh man, I look silly._

"And you're not focusing."

The darker teen's heart -stopped- at the intrusion of his thoughts, his breath trapped in his lungs. Where he came from, being caught off-guard meant death; that instinct wouldn't be taking a back seat any time soon. "Ah..sorry."

He swore Riku rolled his eyes underneath the blindfold. "You are not leaving this hotel room," he stated, "without the keyblade. Concentrate."

"Yessir."

* * *

Mizu sighed in forlorn. The plastic-covered water under his back lulled at him, but he wouldn't fall asleep to its waves. Beside him, Riku shifted in his sleep, his bare and pallid back to Mizu. _Of course he can sleep so easily,_ Mizu thought in disappointment. _He's been out here; he knows what to expect. And he doesn't have to worry about being defenseless._

They'd worked and worked on it, and time passed and passed. Mizu was surprised to find the sun didn't rise in this...'Traverse Town'. How could a world not have sunlight?

His keyblade remained elusive, and Mizu couldn't help being overly worried about his future. As it stood, it was a short one. He'd even brought up the possibility that...-whatever- he'd done was all he was supposed to do. That maybe his role was over and done with. Riku simply countered with, 'why did you come back then?'

It was a sound argument, and even now, Mizu's tongue was still rolling around for another approach. It was bad enough he couldn't manifest the keyblade, which only made him sink further into despair. _Why did you have to send it away, Riku??_ he whined wordlessly.

Shima hadn't returned at all. Mizu didn't know what to think of her vanishing act. Riku was blunt about his unconcern, and Mizu accepted his words because there wasn't much else to fall back on. Their relationship was months old of constant company with each other; Mizu would only assume Riku knew her well enough to trust she'd come back.

Then again, what was a Compass?

Too much addled his thoughts. With a desperate thrash, he sat up and got to his feet, padding over to the table still covered in cartons. He rummaged through them, each sound louder in the quiet than in the air of activity. A few scraps were amazingly missed in Mizu's gluttonous raping of the four-course meal, and silently, he devoured the small portions without minding to chew most of it.

"For of choking fear, Water-borne," came the sharp, soft voice he was beginning to recognize rather well. "Slow down."

Over his shoulder, Mizu could make out Shima's viridescent glow bathing the outer frame of the open window, her vibrant color no longer life-green, but grey-green. "Shima?" He dropped the hunt to physically feed his remorse and near-soundlessly bound across the room to the small fae. "Are you okay, Shima?"

Her yellow eyes were round and glassed with sadness, and she lay her head on the wood of the window frame. "Know not Shima do. Inside hurts heart of, against painful hits."

"He didn't mean it." Despite the conviction to convey its worth, Mizu didn't feel it convince him. And when Shima's tiredly shook her head, the boy sighed. "Sorry."

"Okay is it, Legend Hero-Mizu." She was in the air again, floating directly in front of his face. The faerie managed to smile. "Sleep able not?"

"Ah....no. No. It's not a department I excel in anyway." He rubbed the back of his head and looked away. "Y'know, when there're monsters trying to take you away and all."

Her eyes widened, round and glassy; the luminescent yellow became more pronounced, as it overtook the white pupil. "Monsters? Ravage world monsters from?"

Mizu gave a short, sad laugh; she wasn't so hard to understand, when her vocabulary was limited. "Yeah, monsters came from the sky or so...Jeomn said..." He tapered off, his expression growing distant. "...Jeomn is like my grandfather," he whispered. "I hope he's okay."

Shima's heart plummeted like a dropped stone; she hadn't once thought about explaining to the third Keyblade Master that his world was gone, snuffed out, and sacrificed for the greater good. Apparently, Riku hadn't either, or purposely withheld the information. She'd have to talk to him about that, once Mizu was out of earshot. "Nice sounds he."

"Very nice..." Mizu frowned, and his body unwound into melancholy. For the first time in this world, his thoughts strayed to home in general, and not just the last he saw of Shelique. The people and the responsibilities he left behind, Jeomn...Furiol.

His brow furrowed, curious. The stuffed toy. He recalled Furiol teasing him about it, and having it tucked away at his waist before Shelique's interruption. But past that, he had no memory of removing it or giving it another thought. Had he lost it?

"Shima," he murmured, glancing back at the eye-level faerie, "I just don't know about any of this. Riku's nice...in," his face flushed, "an assertive sort of way, and he's so sure I'm who and what he says I am. ...Am I?"

She nodded firmly, now very somber. "Is Shima seen blade not, is sure Shima think would be Riku daffy."

Mizu's face scrunched into a pensive, hesitant pout. "You...actually did see the keyblade then."

"Is Shima think blade not miss hard, like shiny is blade eyesore. Is no Riku's different."

Having that second confirmation did his insides some good, as little butterflies calmed down in his stomach. He smiled hesitantly, unsure of what this could mean for him in the long run. "Is it ugly?"

"Is blade brazen eyesore!" she softly cried in woe. "Is blade antique like ugly!"

Her complaining caused him to chuckle, pressing his fist to his mouth. "Thanks Shima. That makes me feel a little better."

She beamed, and Mizu was elated to see some of her luster come back to her faerie glow. "Is Shima better feeling too. Is should Mizu sleep trying again?"

"I probably should." He glanced at the bed and, more importantly, at the motionless figure upon it. "...Shima?" Mizu inquired in a hush. "What do you know about Riku?" At her inflamed look of insult, he quickly added, "Truthfully."

The faerie peered up at him with doe eyes, feigning ignorance, which caused Mizu to sigh noisily and murmur a 'never mind', planning to tuck himself back under some covers. But Shima made a sound crossing a bell's twinkle with a squeaky 'eep', and flit forward to block his way -- not that she could have stopped him had he chosen to ignore her presence. Her expression was accusing. "Is Water-borne too not rather persistent. Is in giving easily!" Quieter, she continued. "Is Shima knowing rude man. Is he that everything knows. ...Accurate. Reliable. Correct. Is be he to trust."

_Believe his words, then._

It was no easier to fall asleep than it had been when he first tried, but once he finally found himself on the other side of the door, Mizu decided that keyblade or no keyblade, he might finally be safe enough to dream. And he liked that.

* * *

"My my, what an appetite," commented the tavern matron, fairly amused at her station. "I doubt even that Highwind fellow could compete."

Watching the new boy and his breakfast was a treat like none other. Before even entering the alcove of the bar, he was priceless entertainment, spinning like an endless top with the expression of pure awe etched into his entire body. He'd been wary when she'd approached him, skittish as a rabbit surrounded by hawks. In seeing him, though, she was sad. Some half-a-day ago, Riku mentioned that a world had collapsed, and she should, perhaps, start expecting one or two new permanent residents to the thin population.

'Permanent' was not a word to be taken lightly in Traverse Town.

_Just a babe,_ she mused to herself, then found herself smiling her laughter. French toast with maple syrup and powdered sugar was an everyday example of a main course, and the newcomer had lit up in wonder at the barest taste of sweetness. And now, he was on his third plate; she hoped he'd open up after his belly was sated. Poor thing, in the barest of rags and dirty to the hundredth power; he was small and thin enough that a pair of child's pants might not fit properly.

But if he continued to eat like he was, that won't be a problem much longer.

".....Miss Ruby?.."

He was done. Ruby sauntered over to the table, as the boy sucked his fingers clean. "Want more, honey?"

He beamed. "Mm hmm!"

"Alright, but just one more!" she warned teasingly. "And then I'll tell you about the town, kay?"

"Okay."

* * *

In light of the entire 'big picture', Mizu would say he was taking the experience well. He kept away from thinking about it too much, no further than the basic questions one could ask when faced with a universal debt to society. Riku's credentials and claims were backed up, directly or otherwise, by his late-night encounter with Shima. She never seemed to make light of him, but if the faerie got in more insults on Riku's behalf versus ever complimenting him, he could believe her few choice words of positive assurance.

Mizu sighed noisily, staring blankly down into the alley below. He wanted to see more than just a dingy backroute with a channel, closed in by window-lit buildings and the tenants who weren't visible.

_"Only a handful or so actually live here. The rooms are kept lit to cast the illusion of comfort. It helps cope with loneliness."_

Maybe his imagination was playing games with him, but Mizu would've sworn there was something he was suppose to understand, between the lines. Then again, the entire experience was heavy on the brain; Mizu didn't trust his instincts on that call, so kept his mouth shut and forged to forget. So practice continued, until the next break.

Riku wouldn't let him step outside the hotel. But the terrace was technically apart of the room, and Mizu indulged in the opportunity for fresh, chilled air. It made him shudder, looking up to the starry sky, to remember there wasn't sunlight here, that the town was cast in perpetual darkness forever. The same darkness the beasts of his world thrived under, the scarier ones by far; next to the hunt-and-gathering ones of the daytime, the night-beasts stripped their fear ten-fold. It was a battle to remind himself they weren't in Traverse Town, and if they were....Mizu had a haven in preparation.

Meanwhile, the sloshing of the canal below, as soft as it was, could only be described as a dying man's noise-breaker. Alongside there being no life in this district, it was soundless too, and Mizu clung to the stream, despite wishing he were elsewhere in comparison to it and his vicinity. The bells atop the tower chimed with their baritone bellows, but did so too few times to make a difference, as he required a constant hum, not brief intervals of clamoring giants.

Like the den had been.

With a look hovering between disappointment and disgust, Mizu stared down at his hands. His empty hands. No keyblade. His days would end here trying to make it materialize, at the rate progress was going.

There was no denying Riku's skill as a fighter, having inadvertently shown off several moves for Mizu to mimic. Mizu himself was not too shabby, though Riku pointed out that he spent too hard concentrating on the gestures, and not on his life. A good teacher, no doubt, but making a keyblade appear?

There should have been a manual.

* * *

"Yo, Ruby."

The woman was just dropping off fresh plates to an occupied table, when he called out. She was all smiles, perhaps to keep the customer settled, but Riku saw the apprehensive light in her eyes. "Ah, sugah! Your order is right on the counter."

"Thanks." He brushed himself around the furniture, only minutely focusing on the boy barely big enough to sit taller than the chair-back. Riku mused he must've only just gotten used to Ruby's presence, as he was now hunched over as still as a board, taking quick, shy peeks at Riku's back.

The same dirty complexion as Mizu. There was no question that the kid came from the same world.

At the counter, there was the pile of take-out boxes he'd requested. But he didn't take them right away, just pretended to look then over. "Ruby? Could I speak with you?"

"What is it, hon?" she inquired, once out of the boy's company and in his. "Did I miss something?" Riku shook his head and spoke in a subdued tone. "No. Your thoroughness always pulls through. I want to know about your new friend."

Ruby's whole body seemed to ride on her sorrowful sigh. "He just got here not even two hours ago. Came up right across the square by the Third District doors. I don't even know his name yet."

"But you've established how much of a hungry little troll he is, right?"

She smacked him on the shoulder, and exclaimed in the same hushed voice, "Riku! You know better!"

He couldn't help but note her inclusion of humor. "It's apparently runs with the general populace." He spared a glance toward the boy and said even quieter, "Mizu ate like a starved dog, much like last time. I expect anyone else from that world to be the same."

Sullen was not a mask Ruby wore well. "How's he doing anyway?"

"Same as yesterday, if not somewhat more informed. ...Maybe it's me?"

Ruby huffed. "I will not take that from you," she said, exasperated. "You are capable of amazing things, and he is too. So I have some faith in whatever it is you're trying to do." Surprisingly, she leveled him a hard stare. "So do not start thinking you're an inadequate teacher. You don't have the luxury to think like that."

Riku grimaced, and began collecting his take-out. "Why don't you just adopt me already?"

"Why adopt when I can simply mother you without being responsible for your actions?" she countered. "Because I don't have to listen, otherwise." He spared a wave of parting. "I'll see you later."

Ruby let her head shake ruefully, silvering waves of hair washing over her face. There would never be peace in this town for Riku, or any of the other world travelers. They could not remain and be content, longing to be uncaged of this empty space. Only the ones who emerged unbroken from their world's death were draped in the linens of unnatural settlement; they would not wish to wander, to leave through the doors into a special oblivion only world travelers could pass through successfully.

The boy, who couldn't help but watch Riku exit, would never have a single thought of leaving. He would remember his home, wish he could return, and deny the truth constantly, but he would never think of leaving.

Riku could leave, whenever he wanted, and soon, Mizu would discover what it was like to leave Traverse Town all over again. It was all taken for granted. Ruby's apprehension was suitably justified, because she knew. As the world's Heartkeeper, she was well into the Know, and she knew what was beyond the doors that kept the stranded townies safe and unharmed.

...She wasn't ready to lose those boys to Destiny.

* * *

"Rikuuu!" He was whining. When in his life had he ever whined like a child -- Mizu amended himself. When had he ever had the -chance- to whine like a child? What this the sort of person he'd been all along, hidden beneath the grime? Or just the result of cabin fever? "Can we please take this training outside? A change of scenery might hel--"

Food. Hot, steaming, delicious smelling edibles. Like last 'night'. Different than last night, but just as desirable. The waft was physically telling him to devour it all, and Riku's packages weren't even on the table, let alone open to obey their demands. He salivated slightly.

"You were saying?"

That's what Mizu wanted to know, too. Instead, his stomach gave a mighty rumble, like thunder directly overhead during a storm, and would not let up. He had enough courtesy to blush in embarrassment. "Ah...breakfast?"

Riku shrugged nonchalantly. "Brunch, probably, but it all looks the same in your stomach; it doesn't need a name. Here. Sit."

Both boxes were deposited onto the table, Riku taking the smaller one for himself and pushing the other opposite him. Mizu didn't have to be told twice.

Eating was a safe zone. There was no requirement to talk, but the stage was left open for any request. And he was inhaling the greens, after Riku had long finished, that he remembered what he wanted to complain about. "Can't we take the training outside??" he garbled around cucumber slices. "It has to be more spacious than this."

He expected Riku to shoot down his request in favor of more restrictive boundaries, but was nothing short of surprised when Riku nodded once. "I'll take you somewhere where we won't disturb anyone."

_Disturb 'who', exactly?_ It wasn't a fair question, even to himself. Yes, Riku mentioned Traverse Town's sparse population, but that didn't mean there were only four people. "...How many people are in town, anyway?"

"About twenty, twenty five. Plus one; they have a new resident that popped in not too long ago."

**Twentysomething people, stuck in a box.**

Mizu frowned, suddenly perturbed. _A box?_ He hadn't even seen what the front of the district looked like, let alone the entire town. So where did a comparison like that come from? He decided it wasn't worth the trouble, but his gorging suffered as a result, dropping from inhaling to something akin to decent etiquette. Riku didn't remark on the erratic loss of appetite.

* * *

The waterway wasn't too special. Rounded stones covered in a light slime, water lapping between the crevices, and then there was the story of the mural across the pool. Nothing too extravagant, or radical. It was an everyday cavern. With a wizard's elevator at the end of a stairwell.

"Is there anything normal about this place?" His tone implied the town in general.

A small half-grin flourished in the vague light. "Not particularly."

Training was no longer the watch-and-copy sessions of the last twenty-four hours, but a full-on survival camp. Two polished-down poles were substituted for 'blades, and between slipping every other step on the rocks and dodging mediocre attacks, the Blue Room was looking cozier and cozier every second.

After a distinctly rough fall, Mizu was astonished. Stunned silly with the possibility of a lump on his head, but astonished none the less. It wasn't that he couldn't defend himself properly and Riku always had the upper hand, even when Mizu was supposed to be on the offensive. It was because he was losing his balance every which way, while Riku never faltered.

Blinding reaching out for his disarmed weapon as he sat up, Mizu muttered, "I had to ask for something different."

"You'll learn in time."

Mizu frowned, disallowing his agitation toward himself to seep into his words. "Don't you mean 'relearn'?"

Riku shrugged a shoulder. "Learn, relearn. It's all the same when it comes down to it."

"What am I supposed to be 'learning', anyway?"

A small, enigmatic smile appeared; Riku said nothing.

Mizu's fingers finally closed around the short pole and he staggered to his feet. He was frustrated inside, upset over these setbacks, and couldn't grasp why he didn't doubt his authenticity anymore. It was as if a fog haze prevented him from asking the questions which needed answering, a subdued coolness that kept him from inquiring, mentally or verbally, any more deeper than he had. Everything told to him was oddly accepted at face value, and no thought shimmered free to whisper, 'Lies.' His suspicions of this nature had all but been erased...

"Show me how you did that last move?"

"Pay attention, then."

* * *

* * *

A/N: This pixie grammar is killing me. Granted, it wasn't so hard when I first used it, but it gets worse as time goes along. Curses.

Ruby, for the curious and the nosey, is the darling actress from FF9, the one with the southern accent.


	5. Sora I

**Disclaimer**: I own Kingdom Hearts! ...No, literally. Do I own any of the characters in it? Chya, right. That's a big, fat no. But, while we're taking about owning things, I own Mizu and the three sprites (Shima, Kiri, and Yama).

TTvTT I'd thought I'd lost this before the summer, but apparently I had a back-up, but I didn't look for it in case I was heartbroken. So, yeah, coming to you MUCH sooner had I lost the chapter. Praise be to the angels!

- b - e - g - i - n - s -

Sentinel Trinity  
Sora I

Sora liked how all the keychains in his collection chimed against one another, in the sway of his movements. The lamp and the lionhead sounded the best out of the possible two-chain combinations, when they collided against each other. A light melody, the lead in the play of musical motion. Staring roles, the hero and heroine.

...Or not. Perhaps one was the villain, and their constant chiming were the cries of their war, the chocobo behind the lionhead, and the rose along side the lamp. But if their supporters were the ones behind them, the lamp had the bigger army, as the ace of hearts, the pumpkin, the shell, the feather, the butterfly, the mousehead, the yellow star, the spellbook, and the lightning-struck coin completely overwhelmed the paopu fruit, the black wing, and the dark crown.

But the lionhead, the dark crown, the paopu fruit, the chocobo, and the black wing were more powerful than the others when combined. And so, their oppositions would be a standoff. Sora idly fingered the charm in his grasp, not taking his eyes off its strung brothers.

The pressured heart thought them all silly. And the snowflake, the keychain currently attached to his keyblade, agreed with the pressured heart. Because the pressured heart was the strongest of all, and the snowflake was the most level-headed.

Sora grinned to himself, albeit bitterly. He was too old for making stories out of inanimate objects, but here he was, doing just that. Waging a war with them in his mind, by simply gazing at them, their natural motions feeding his tale. But there was no one to tell it to, who would enjoy like he would.

Yama would listen to him because not only was he obliged to, but the fae liked to humor him, even when he didn't understand. Donald would merely scoff at Sora's childishness, and would then go into a spiel about his nephews. And Goofy, while he might enjoy it, wouldn't absorb the full potential the story generated.

Distantly, the sound of Goofy rummaging through the ice-chest, humming a nonsensical tune, tipped at his ears, over the rumble of the Gummi-ship's engines and the stageplay of his keychains. It reminded him suddenly how Sora didn't like keeping Goofy and Donald away from the Magic Kingdom. They had families, a king, duties to perform. What happened if...

"Sora!"

The squawk of a calling forced Sora to sit up instantly, and lean forward to stick his head into the cockpit. "Huh, what? What's wrong?"

Donald stared at him impatiently, and pointed out the floating continent through the viewscreen. "We're coming to Halloween Town."

Sora's face lit up, and he beamed excitedly. "Think it's done this time?"

Donald half-lid his eyes with a huff. "Who knows. But it better be; we're not coming this way for a while."

"Oh well. Plan for me pit stop, _mon capitaine_! I'm goin' ashore!"

Maybe it was the French, or maybe it was the navel reference, but Donald was suddenly Not There, a distant glaze in his eyes and a light smile on his face. Sora frowned, and excused himself loudly, jarring Donald from his thoughts as he left. Down the tight corridor to the hatch, he passed Goofy, a large chicken leg clutched in his mouth, and one armful of various edibles tucked in the crook of his elbow. He smiled around the poultry, coupling it with a muffled, trademark 'hee-yuck'. "W'are yah go'n, So'a?"

"Halloween Town, to see Dr. Finkelstein."

The biped canine beamed guilelessly. "Hav'vun!"

"I will!"

- c - u - t -

At the entrance to the square, Sora idly shifted the mask on his forehead. Even with the knowledge of what this World represented, he didn't understand why he was automatically born with a costume upon entering it. After all, couldn't he be a Keyblade Master for Halloween too? But despite it all, the zombie outfit was comfortable and probably shouldn't complain. It -was- all for fun.

_I wonder what Riku and Kairi's costumes would be here._

Yama was tucked inside Sora's breast pocket, shaking like an autumn leaf in the wind. This was the Compass's first time to the eccentric town of ghosts and demons, and he obviously didn't feel any love for its ghastly appearance. Sora didn't blame him.

Dr. Finkelstein's laboratory was nothing short of a hop, skip, and a jump away from the main entrance, and Sora skirted around the wandering oddities this place called its residents. The troupe was playing its off-key requests beside the entrance to the graveyard, the younger ghouls racing around the toxic water fountain, shrieking like the resurrected dead, and cackling witches sailed through the full-moon night over the twisted spirals and turrets.

Sora rang the doorbell once all the excitement of being back began to wan, and no sooner could a cat yowl before the door opened itself, allowing admittance. Disregarding just how creepy that was, even for a supernatural place, Sora let himself in. "Yo, Doctor! You in?"

"Does a door open to a stranger when the home is empty?"

The brunette chuckled sheepish, and Finkelstein's motorized chair started down the spiraling staircase. "I guess not. But it's never too much to make sure."

"Hmph. So you've come to check up on progress?"

"I was hoping it was done, actually, since there aren't any plans to come out this way for some time."

Finkelstein rolled onto the ground floor, and halted himself at Sora's feet. The scientist wasn't above openly gauging Sora, and began his grumblings. "You hit a growth spurt, just as I predicted. Precise height, shape. Proper weight. Hmm, look stronger too."

With a laugh, Sora posed, flexing a bicep like a certain demi-god was prone to do. "Think so?"

"Bah, don't get cocky. Get me to the lab."

Sora rolled his eyes and maneuvered behind the chair to push the doctor forward. For a guy who liked doing things on his own, he was rather demanding for the occasional freebie ride.

Sally was in the laboratory, the product of Finkelstein's (and her) manual labor in her lap and a thread and needle in hand. The final touch-ups were being done, and Sora was again beside himself. Excited enough to forget that a tiny creature was inhabiting his pocket, who was now peaking out over the brim to observe the two strange creatures in their company.

His arrival was anticipated by Sally, and called him over once he had entered. Sora was happy to obliged, leaving the grotesque doctor to his own devices. Sally acted as if her son had come home, and Sora lavished in the attention. She reminded him of his mother back home.

Sora wouldn't tell himself that though. Thinking of Mom made him yearn for her cooking, her nagging about his room, her kisses before bedtime. Thinking of Mom made him homesick for the islands, Kairi and Riku, the Paopu tree, Selphie, Tidus, and Wakka, and the plans to sail to new worlds that sparked a trip across time, space, and the cosmos. He wanted to go home.

Three years was a long time to be gone. Would Kairi tell his parents the truth? Or would they be led to believe he was lost at sea? Or maybe, a less likely possibility, that both he and Riku ran away from the islands. The possibilities were endless, but the ones able to be swallowed were sorely limited. They'd never believe a faerytale that Sora's on a magical quest to save the stars from falling.

Pity, how reality is so pessimistic.

"It's almost finished, I promise. A few more seams need to be stitched, and then it's all yours for the taking."

"After a proper examination of its properties when worn, I should think," Finkelstein interjected.

Sora rubbed his hands together. "This is completely awesome; I can't wait."

Dr. Finkelstein wheeled himself over, a pair of tongs in his tiny hands. "Meanwhile, I'd like a better look at the tiny creature hiding in your shirt." Clink clink clink, went the tongs.

Yama let off a shriek like nothing Sora had ever heard before, and the red fae was no longer in the pocket, but shooting around the ceiling, calling, "Is not for touch. Is not for touch!"

Sora cringed.

"Oho! A Compass!" Finkelstein adjusted his glasses, readily flowing the erratic streaks of glowing red. "You're still looking for your missing friends then."

"Well--" Crash went the flask Yama knocked over in his desperation to stay as far away from Finkelstein as possible, but given that Finkelstein hadn't moved an inch, it was needlessly wasted energy on Yama's part. "Yama!"

"Would you like a net?" Finkelstein purred in dark amusement.

Sora sighed; he had learned Yama, while not easily excited, had a cowardly streak in his nature. And that streak made his panic border on a hyper stage of survival: the fight or flight response in every creature. Yama never chose to fight, and instead hung back to let Sora and the King's entourage take care of the problem. While this was encouraged, as the faeries were delicate in nature, Yama's case felt extreme. "If you have a butterfly net, I'd much appreciate it."

"Sally! Fetch our guest what he needs."

- c - u - t -

Yama would not let Sora get too close to the goblin of a scientist. Once he was calmed in the confines of mesh, with his partner trying to sooth away his jitters, Yama stranded himself on the top of Sora's head. Said he wouldn't feel safe otherwise. ...Or at least, that's how Sora translated it.

It was finished, Finkelstein's pet project. And Sora was itching to get naked for it. Eight months of hard work, plus two more just to round up the source materials, and the several before that to perfect the method of extraction.

The specialized outfit, while not an exact copy of his own clothing, was a decent representation of their islander fashion back home. Except, Sora was sure, none of them were woven with the outer skins of Heartless and padded with Oogie Boogie's burlap shell. Coated on the inside in trace amounts of faerydust and protected with threaded Mithril outside, Finkelstein was sure it'd be a success. And so was Sora.

_"You've already had your heart removed and transformed into a Heartless," noted Finkelstein, a year earlier. "While conscious Heartless will realize you've become untainted, it's that same taint in recurrence, despite your recovery, that should keep a Heartless' body from rejecting you as its wearer."_

An armor, almost, made of materials meant to take a beating and come out unscathed, for the most part. An armor with special properties, Finkelstein claimed, like being undetectable from the lower forms of Heartless, to name one of a few.

And it fit perfectly, when Sora pulled it on, giving Finkelstein a point for predicting his final growth-spurt. The faerydust tickled some, as each and every grain made themselves acquainted with his flesh, but otherwise, it felt like the very clothing he started his adventure in. The ones kept undisturbed in a niche onboard the Gummi ship.

It didn't look half bad either. Sora spent several minutes admiring the outfit in a double-cracked mirror, looking at it from every angle he could imagine. He even went so far as to stare in the mirror from between his legs; Yama yelped at he fell from Sora's hair to the stone flooring.

But Sora knew, as he picked Yama up with an apologetic smile, that it'd be a worthless effort if it blocked the effects of the Keyblade, or even blocked the Keyblade itself. There was only one way to test it.

Sora wondered if Jack was up for some last minute Heartless purging.

- b - r - o - k - e - n -

"Aw Donald, you worry too much. Sora's gonna be fine."

Donald's scowl darkened. "Fine? Fine! He's endangering himself and the Keyblade by wearing that thing. I don't like it!"

Goofy cocked his head, and wore a rare, knowing half-smile. "You're just worried about Sora's safety. Ah-hyuck, it reminds me of all the times you used to chase your nephews around the courtyard garden; you were always worried they'd hurt themselves out in the hedgemaze."

"Phooey!"

But Goofy was a father; while not the most beneficial or responsible parent in the world, he was well-versed in the secrets of paternal love. And he could read Donald like an emotional book: he cared. "Come on, Donald, don't be so negertive."

Donald scowled. "'Negative'."

"That too." Goofy smiled a smile worth a million munny. "Sora's growing up; he has to start making his own decisions someday. This is just one of them."

"But he's risking his heart to a /suit of clothing!" Donald squawked, outraged all over again. "It's the wrong decision!"

"Now Donald," Goofy chided. "People learn from their mistakes. It's part of the growing process. If Sora chose poorly, he'll be that much wiser the next time."

Donald wanted badly to hit his head into something hard and ungiving, because Goofy didn't get it! If the suit was dangerous, there would be no next time for Sora. But Donald could word it anyway he pleased; Goofy would grasp the reality of the situation. "Fiiiine," he falsely submitted, but no less visibly begrudged. "He'll be that much smarter the next time..."

- b - r - o - k - e - n -

"So...you won't be joining us for next Halloween?" Jack didn't even try to keep his disappointment to himself; he wouldn't be Jack if his emotions weren't broadcasted.

"I'm not sure. With the way things are going, we probably won't have time to spare anymore." Sora looked up at Jack with a sad smile. "The barriers are still filled with holes, and there are other worlds that still need to be locked, y'know? I'd never want to miss any day of Halloween otherwise."

"I understand," sighed Jack, and he did, much to his chagrin. "The importance of saving the universe does rather outweigh the celebration of a holiday, even the best one that ever was." Jack's admission lifted Sora's spirit, even if it made his heart ache. Halloween -was- possibly one of the best holidays to ever exist, and it was sad that on a little world called Destiny Islands, October 31st had no holiday with such a name. It would have to be changed.

Just as they were about to enter the graveyard, however, a boney hand lay down on Sora's shoulder, stopping him short. For a skeleton with no eyes, Jack still managed to impressively display a range of expressions and right now, his was solemn.

"I'm always on your side, Sora," he confessed. "I want you to take this when you leave. Just in case you really can't make it back, alright?" And with that, removed the cat-faced broach from his collar and held it out for Sora to take. "A souvenir, if you wish."

A token, a good luck charm. The fact that it wasn't a keychain made the gift even greater somehow, because it was just that: a gift. Not a weapon, nothing magic. Sora took it with great appreciation.

And that was it.

- b - r - o - k - e - n -

Donald was about to have a fit. Again.

Sora grimaced uneasily, just watching the duck's color go from white on a steady incline up the raging-red ladder. Always comical, but never when he was looking at you personally. The black outfit was already doing wonders for his protection; Sora hadn't blown up yet.

But much to his utter shock, Donald merely huffed, threw himself back into the pilot's seat, and shrilled, "Sit down and buckle up! That asteroid field always gives us trouble."

Goofy smiled encouragingly at Sora, his pride in Donald's restraint obvious. Sora returned it, and hopped into his seat behind Donald. Because it was one small step for them, one giant leap for Donald's temper.

- c - u - t -

Sora dreamed that night.

He dreamed of home, where the ocean was made of honey and the boats made of uncut branches. Riku was trying to sow a dress for Selphie on the docks, and Tidus and Kairi were fighting over a puppy found in the middle of the road. Mom was baking on the porch, because the house had no walls, and she smiled and waved at Sora. Dad was talking to Riku's mom over the fence, and it looked like they were kissing while they spoke. Yuffie suddenly came streaming down the road, calling Tidus a liar for saying she could have those shoes. And Wakka was reading a newspaper in a chair on a lamppost, much older than them, complaining it was fish season in a thicker East Island accent instead of his usual South Island accent.

Except down the street, something short was walking/waddling/sliming toward the chaos. Like a blue, jelly blob, with purple and orange swirls in its very misshapened body. And as it walked passed Sora, it said, "Make a detour. Give the town one more day. You'll be happier then."

But a Shadow-type Heartless came and swallowed the blob with a very comical mouth. It belched loudly and rudely and scuttled off in the direction the jelly blob had been going in the first place, tripping over a fleeing Tidus and Yuffie pounced him good.

Sora woke up to a pudgy ceiling staring down on him and grit in his eye. It was a familiar ritual when one slept inside a gummi ship, flat on their back; Sora yawned, stretched, and almost rolled over to go back to sleep. Until he remembered the jelly blob.

"Make a detour," he muttered. "To where, anyway?"

"Is something say, Sky-borne?"

Wearily, Sora turned his head to squint at the faint red figure standing on his shoulder. "Nnt'n," he disconfirmed. "Just talking to myself. Just had a dream, that's all."

"Is the dream why are you here not?"

Curse the fae for being so backwards. Sora sighed. "Say that again?"

Yama sat himself on the cusp of Sora's shoulder and took a moment of his time before barely managing to reiterate, "Is not...a dream...unn...why Legend hero Sora here?"

Oh. That made much more sense. "Yes Yama, I had a strange dream before I became the Keyblade Master." Sora yawned and closed his eyes again. "But this was just a normal dream; it didn't feel real, you know? I mean everyone dreams at night, right? Not all dreams mean something."

When the red faery didn't answer, Sora partially opened his eyes. "Yama?"

Except Yama was staring back, and with the little light haloing his body, Sora could just make out the sad expression on his face, and how the tips of his ears seen to droop just a little. "Is Apology to you, Legend hero Sora. Is say too afraid, but... Is when we dream, we are dead."

Sora had a feeling Yama wasn't talking about other people. "You mean...Compasses only dream when they die?"

Yama nodded as he bowed his head. "Is understand of human-like dreams, happens in sleep. Is when fae die, forever fae dream."

Sora's tiredness was accompanied by a rather painful ache in his heart. It seemed ironic how a faery would only dream in its death, but it had to be a very lonely sleep, if all they did was slumber in the emptiness of the mind. But, he managed some sort of smile; no telling what it looked like when he was about ready to fall asleep again. "Then I promise you, Yama. I won't let you dream while you're mine, okay?"

Yama beamed happily, tainted only by sad joy. "Is Yama trusting Legend hero Sora. Is Legend hero Sora kind."

And Sora fell back asleep, continuing to dream in the living world.

- e - n - d - i - n - g -

A/N: Yes, the outfit Sora's now wearing is the same as KH2!Sora's (with just a few more red accents on it). With different origins, obviously. So I don't have to go the distance in describing it; it's impossible to describe his clothing anyway. It's like trying to describe Rufus Shinra's uniform white trench coat and undercoat thing, without giving someone the idea he's wearing too many clothes (and many of his fans would agree he is already; take it off!).


End file.
